A Different Blue(87)

like a witch, the littlest red-head on her back, the other two in full squirt gun assault.

“We're dining inside, aren't we?” Alice spoke up from under her umbrella. “I can't endure

this heat for another instant.”

“We can do both,” Tiffa called, climbing out of the pool without relinquishing the little

monkey on her back. “I had catering brought in, and everything is sorted in the flat. Jack will

bring the steaks down. Anyone who wants to can come back up here and eat or stay inside where

it's cool.”

Jack and Tiffa had also invited a handful of close friends to the get-together, which was a

relief to me. The larger group made it easier to be inconspicuous. Most everyone made their way

down the circular stairs that connected the roof to Jack and Tiffa's apartment. All of the

penthouse flats, as Tiffa referred to them, had private stairs leading to the rooftop pool and

gardens. I tried not to think about how much a place like that cost and marveled again at the

differences between Wilson and me. He had received a trust when he turned twenty-one, which had

enabled him to purchase the old mansion in Boulder City. I had no idea how much the trust was. I

honestly didn't want to know, but from the off-hand way Tiffa talked, it was millions. Which

might explain the little gasp from Joanna Wilson when she had seen my belly. Millions of

dollars? Millions of reasons why she would want Wilson to steer clear of someone like me. I

understood, I really did, but it didn't ease the embarrassment I felt for the rest of the

afternoon.

The summer sun set late and brought a welcome respite from the desert sun. When the sun went

down in Vegas, the heat wasn't just bearable, it was beautiful. I even liked the way it smelled,

like the sun had stripped away all the grime and the desert oasis had been washed in fire.

Indescribable, until you breathed it in. I didn't think any place in the world smelled like

Vegas.

[page]The party moved back up to the roof with the setting of the sun, and I basked in the dark

heat, an icy sweet tea in my hand, eyes on the sky, waiting for the fireworks to start. Wilson

had been at my side off and on through the evening, and neither of us commented on the awkward

moment earlier by the pool. Joanne Wilson was gracious and polite to me whenever circumstances

demanded, but I had caught her looking at me several times throughout the evening.

As the hour for the fireworks neared, I trudged back down the stairs for yet another trip to the

bathroom – curse my pregnant bladder! – when I overheard Wilson and his mother talking in

Tiffa's kitchen. The stairs from the pool ended in a tiled area – a large jacuzzi and a sauna

sat just to the left, a laundry room and a large bathroom with an enormous shower to the right.

Straight ahead, through a large stone archway lay the kitchen, and though I couldn't see Wilson

or his mother, it was impossible not to hear them, especially when I played such a prominent

role in the conversation. I stood motionless at the foot of the stairs, listening as Wilson

denied any special feeling for me. His mother seemed aghast that he would bring me to an outing

where so many would assume I was his girlfriend.

“Darcy. You can't be dating a girl who is expecting, darling.”

“I'm not dating her, Mum. Blue is my friend, and she lives in my building – that's all. I'm